Come Back To Me
by Amel Riddle
Summary: Yaoi, Continuation of In Your Arms and Time Slips away. Third in the series, and final. Duo is still hurting himself and something happens. Heero is pissed.


They took him. They took the only one I loved away. They said he would be treated for his mental instability. They won't treat him.  
  
Duo cried when they came. He cried as they lead him to the car. He cried when they told us that soon everything would be back to normal.  
  
They Lie.  
  
When they said that I wanted to yell, scream, do anything, but I couldn't. I wanted to yell at them. Wanted to ask if they could wash the bloodstains off the walls where he had banged his head. Ask if they could make the washclothes white again instead of the darkened pink. Ask if they could get the braid out of the plaster frame that now hung on the wall. Ask if they could get the memories and times we'd spent together out of my head. I know they can't.  
  
I wanted to cry, but I don't cry, can't cry. That must have broken his heart to look back and see the one person who cared about him the most not cry. But I didn't.  
  
After that, we tried to slip back into our normal rutine, but we couldn't. Wufei would sometimes turn around and call for Duo, and when he wouldn't come, he'd call again. He'd call and call until he broke down in tears and one of us came to cry with him. Quatre would talk to Duo as if he were right beside him. Trowa would leave a note for him when he went out. And I, I would cry myself to sleep at night, where no one but the empty pillow beside me could see my tears.  
  
A few weeks later, I went to see him. The doctor lead me to the cell and let me in, alone, with the one person I ever wanted to see again. He cried again when I hugged him. He kissed my cheek, shaking. We sat mainly in silence, talking only strands of sentances. He told me about how they took everything from him, even a small coin that he had always kept with him.   
  
I hated them.  
  
He had bought the coin everywhere, said that it was a token of the two best memories he had. He had gone to a fair once and he had put a penny on a train track. The train had crushed it flat. Later, he found a man who could do inscriptions and had the coin inscripted. On one side was Solo, on the other, my name. I had only seen it that one time, he never took it out of his pocket. And they had taken it.  
  
I hate them.  
  
When he finally stood to say good-bye, I could see that there was something else wrong. He was frail, thin, underfed. And when I hugged him, I felt as if I could crush every bone in his body.  
  
They couldn't treat him. They would only make him worse. No wonder most people stayed in here for the rest of their lives.  
  
When I came home, they asked about the visit. That was the second time. The second time I ever openly cried. The first time I fell to my knees in front of them all and buried my face in my palms. They surrounded me, trying to soothe me and calm me, but I knew they couldn't. If I had to, I would go crazy too, just to stay with him forever.  
  
For the next few weeks, I would visit him every day I could. Once, we had to go on a mission, and I couldn't go see him for a few days. When I got back, he cried. They had cut his hair even shorter. His hands were caked with blood as well as his forehead and some dried drops on his face. They hadn't even bothered to wash, or let him wash, off the blood.  
  
"Where were you?" He had moaned. He had hugged me and weakly kissed my cheek when I had come in the room.  
  
"We had a small mission. I'm sorry I didn't get to come." He was having trouble standing. He wouldn't last too much longer in here. "I'm back, and we're both alive..."  
  
"That's all that matters." He smiled and rested his head on my chest. Together we sunk to the floor. He smelled of blood. I didn't know how they could do this to him.   
  
I stayed until visiting hours were up. Then, I had to leave. He didn't want me to. He yelled for me to stay, it almost brought tears to my eyes.  
  
For the next few weeks, I would dream of him coming home and being as good as new, and even better. During the day, I stayed as long as they would allow. The guards were used to my visits now. The caked blood was getting darker on his forehead, this got me madder and madder at them. I had to complain. But, I noticed, there was less new blood. That was good, very good. That meant that his episodes were becoming less and less, or he was pulling his hair out less. Either was better then before.  
  
Weeks turned into months. After about half a year, not once had I come into the room, or been in his room while he had an episode. He was becoming more and more how he used to be. This made me wonder what they were doing, but I never asked. I didn't think I wanted to know. We talked about what was happening outside, how the rest of the guys were, how we were doing. He wanted to hear about the missions mostly, and, of course, where we were going next. I started to record mission files for him to see and television shows that he'd wanted to see. The doctors alowed a television in his room while I was there.  
  
Quatre started to come with me soon after that. He would bring food for Duo, so he didn't have to eat what they served at the cafeteria. He would buy things, mainly clothing that Duo had longed for months ago when he went shopping with us. Duo would try everything on, then pick his favorites. But everytime, what he had recieved was gone when we came back. Once Quatre had brought a water bottle and a washcloth and while Duo read jokes to us out of a joke book, we cleaned his face and forehead.  
  
He started to look much better after that. Soon, Trowa came with us. He would show Duo new rutines and we would sit and clap for him. Duo returned to one of his favorite games that he called "Count Seconds." He would count how many seconds Trowa and Quatre could hold their breath in a kiss. Then he would burst out laughing when Quatre always had to get some air. The only differance in this game was that he never bragged about him being able to hold more air than Quatre. And his laughs would usually end in a fit of coughing. But as the days went on, the coughing subsided and by the time Wufei went with us, he was back to bragging.  
  
Soon after, we were back to smiling again, everything was returning to normal. We could go for a week with out using the washcloth. Duo seemed happy with how much he had changed, but the doctors weren't. They said that time was running short for him. This made me even angrier then before.  
  
Weeks later, we had another long mission. I wasn't able to get to Duo for a week. When we got home, we could already tell something was wrong. We went straight to the hospital.  
  
"He's not here anymore." The doctors were so serious about this, I almost doubted their words.  
  
"Not here? Why?" I couldn't speak, Wufei yelled for me.  
  
"Here are his things, like we said, he is not here."  
  
They had shoved bags in our arms and left. We were mad. He couldn't have died while we were gone, he wouldn't have. He wouldn't have allowed himself to.  
  
We went home in silence. They all gave me a small pat on the back, Quatre gave me a hug. I stayed up for a few more hours, just thinking, wishing what the doctors had said was not true.  
  
Around one, I went upstairs. I got ready for bed, though I knew I wouldn't sleep. I had striped down to my boxers and sat on the bed when I felt something warm. Someone. I reached over and a hand took mine and gently kissed it. The kiss was familiar. Sometime between then and Quatre, Trowa and Wufei bursting through the door I had realized who it was and uncontously yelped with joy. The light from the hallway gave just enough light for me to see that it was Duo. His hair was longer, almost to his shoulders. He had his old smile on his face, the sencere one. Before anyone could move he said one word, in the old voice that we knew so well.  
  
"Hi." 


End file.
